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Talra

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“Oh... Hello there.”

Talra blushed heavily, the little bird looking up at me from where I had her set scrubbing the floors, her pretty feathers seeming to glitter at the edges with soap suds. Ah, she was cute, a little delight to have around and definitely one of my better purchases. She was not a phoenix, just a regular bird, but she had a history to her that made me ensure her wings were clipped when she came to me. It wouldn’t do, after all, to see one of my possessions, quite literally, fly the coop.

She rose up onto her knees, naked from the beak down and knees ever so slightly pushed apart as if she was trying to put herself on show for me. Her yellow and orange feathers were kept in good condition, legs slender and scaled, although in the yellow, bird-like way rather than the reptilian way. It was something to get used to but her sweet little beak and fluff of red hair made the strangeness worth it – as well as the sweet form of her body, slender and tantalising and, as yet, unexplored by me. I didn’t know if she was a virgin at that point and I didn’t care either, only wanting that hot little beak of hers wrapped around my cock – one of the truly best uses of a slave.

And she seemed to know what to do well enough too as I stood over her, my pants slipping down to expose my hard length, fleshy and firm and simply aching for what my hot piece of a slave had to offer. If it was not offered, it would be taken for her and there was acceptance in her eyes as she whimpered softly, looking up at me with soft, round eyes.

“Oh, master...”

Her beak opened around my shaft and I grunted deep in the back of my throat, hooking a finger into the corner where it ‘hinged’ to keep her mouth open, sliding over her tongue – the tongue that I owned. Talra submitted so beautifully and prettily too, keeping her beak obediently open as I used it as nothing more than a hole to fuck, to sate myself. Power thrummed through me, intoxicating to the nth degree. She knew what she was there for and lapped exotically over the head of my cock as I slammed in, unwilling to exercise any sense of patience or slow in the slightest when my need that morning was already so rampant.

She moaned around me like a true slut of a slave but even her moan was demure, her slight body shuddering in the wetness left from her scrubbing brush, a pail of water set beside her. It, to be fair, was old and not the best I had available with a little bit of a leak; of course, if I’d actually paid someone to clean, I would have given them better equipment. I’d just wanted to see her cute buttocks thrust up into the air as her tongue poked out from the corner of her beak and she scrub-scrub-scrubbed the day away.

But her beak... That was better. Her tongue stroked my cock each and every time I pulled back, teasing along the length and flicking over the tip, just as I liked it. The other slaves must have been talking to her about me and, damn, was she a quick learner! Talra took everything from my needy moans and groans that she could, sucking me into the back of her throat with a needy little bob of her beak even as she hacked and made an awkward sort of ‘glucking’ sound around me, struggling to fit every last inch of my thick length.

It was good to see her struggle, to see her so reminded of who was on top, my position of power over her. But there was no good in holding back when I could be using my newest slave for so much more pleasure, slamming in over and over again, her beak but a hole into which I could spill my pleasure. With each and every thrust, her body shuddered as if I was pounding directly through every last nerve-ending, tail-feathers flicking up. Was she trying to expose herself to me? I smirked. What a little slut...

Ah, she could be as quiet and demure and sweet as she like but she would still be treated to the same sexual delights as the rest as I huffed and sped up, need clawing at the back of my mind. I was not accustomed to holding back – just why would I have to do that when I had such slaves to please me? – and she struggled to keep the hard edges of her beak away from me as she took as much of my cock right up into the back of her throat as she possibly could.

I groaned, unable to hold out and neither did I want to as cum flooded her beak, spilling out the sides as I deliberately held it lewdly open, enjoying the sight of seed trickling over her tongue and the hardness of what should have protected the intimacy of her mouth. But that intimacy was mine, as I owned her, and I moaned triumphantly, spending the rest of my orgasm over her face in evidence of the need she raised in me.

Like a good slave, she licked off what she could, eyes sweetly cast downward as if she could not quite bring herself to look me in the eyes – good! That was just as it should have been and I relished it, wiping my cock off on her beak even as she moaned and seemed to lean into my touch. How she needed it... She’d learn so just what I liked, every last little, sordid bit of it and she’d take me all too, the last bit of my cock that had remained outside her beak disappearing into that slutty little throat of hers.

My shaft hardly softened as I snapped my fingers and she obediently cleaned me up, lapping along the full length of my shaft in long, languid strokes, making sure that not a drop of cum was left behind, left to waste. What was on her face was left to trickle and drool a creamy path down her features, although her eyes remained intent on her task as my dick returned to full hardness, already ready for more. Virility and stamina, of course, were most certainly not problems that I had.

Awaiting my command, she placed her hands on the floor and looked down, bubbles frothing in the water around her. It must have spilt from the pail but that really wasn’t my concern as I took her beak in hand, turning it from one side to the other to, roughly, admire my handiwork.

“You’re wet, slave.”

Talra shivered. It was as if she knew just what was coming next. And the ‘wetness’ related to more than one part of her.

Smart bird...

“Get down.”

On her back in an instant, the fact that the floor was wet and clinging dampness to her feathers hardly anything that should have dissuaded her but she didn’t even seem to notice, gasping as a string of my cum clung to her beak. It only made her all the more alluring to me though in the very best of ways, her feathers slick as I pushed her legs back up to her shoulders, showing off her flexibility – or, rather, I forced it. I knew she could do it, after all, and there was no reason at all for me, as a master, to not enjoy my pleasure in any way at all that I pleased.

My cock drove into her and she squalled, shivering and twisting within my grasp, but not as if she was trying to escape. No, my slave wanted to please me through demonstrating her own pleasure, the true little sex birdie that I had always hoped for. Her chest rose as she arched up to me and I growled over her, hammering into her sweet, tight cunny over and over again, not needing to wait for her to adjust to either my size or length. Her sweet pussy squeezed around me as if she was begging me to go on, to keep pounding her, and I more than happily obliged, her cum-streaked beak full in my line of vision as I pushed even further over her, desperate now for something more.

And there was nothing more or anything better than a hot, wet cunny wrapped around one’s cock and I took my pleasure from her as I would a fine meal, my slave clinging lightly to my arms as if she needed to support herself. Talra knew just how to ripple her sex around me too, milking my cock of what cum I had to give her, to fill her pussy with all that she too knew was coming. I nearly laughed aloud at the notion. Just what use would I have for something like that? My slaves took me as I was...

That was the best of it, breath catching in my throat as I puffed and loomed over her, body sliding back through the wet and bubbles and the patch that perhaps I’d have to have another slave clean up – just to show a scrap of kindness to her. She’d be too tired afterwards to clean, even though it would be utterly adorable to see her legs quiver, my cum dripping down from her slit after I’d filled her.

It was that thought that pushed me closer to the edge, the excitement of using my slave getting the better of her, Talra’s moans of ‘master’ simply too much to bear. She was perfect and I could make it all the better by seeding her, each thrust coming with greater and greater power as I sought to show off my virility and vitality, if only to myself. There was nothing quite like the sensation of a slave’s cunny and I savoured each and every last moment of it, cheeks puffing out with air as I groaned and huffed, needing that more.

And it came with a flash and a flourish, the urgency to cum searing through me as I slammed in and spent myself, each throb of cum sending my head spinning. She could do little, pinned on the wet floor as she was, but Talra’s moans were sweet and rising, thrumming through me as her body climaxed on my cock, taking her mind right along with it. She moaned and twisted beneath me as much as she could, beak parted as a drop of cum slipped right back inside – back where, at least, I truly felt that it belonged.

On and on, my orgasm seemed to go, having no end – although it had to, sooner or later. The last drop of cum marked the slit of her cunny as I pulled out, enjoying the sight of the creamy, pearly droplets on her feathered sex, the smaller, lighter feathers there simply for protection. They did not, by any means, stop me from using her as I pleased, growling deeply as I thumbed the barely visible nub of her clit to a shudder of pleasure from her.

So easy to control. Such a cute bird. I’d keep her around a while, just to see how far I could take her, how many ways that she could suck and devour my cock.

Yet she lay there with her eyes half-lidded, helpless to lust as passion took over her body, her narrow chest rising and falling rapidly. She needed to learn, just a little bit more...

...And I’d be the one to show her the way of being a pleasure slave.

“Get on all fours, slave,” I murmured, not needing to raise my voice to be heard, to be obeyed. “You’re not done yet.”

And she did just that, like the good little slave birdie she was, tail-feathers lifted and trembling and her pussy noticeable and obviously clenching down on nothing. I sucked in a breath, cock throbbing and twitching wantonly.

I’d picked the right one.